Blog

  • Living Wittily Redivivus!

    Hello – it's now over a week since I posted here. It's has been a difficult week spent in hospital fighting off a very nasty infection that erupted unexpectedly and caused considerable havoc with my pain thresholds! Home now and will recuperate for a week or two before starting back into those activities that we call our normal life.

    However Living Wittily is back albeit having to live more gingerly for a wee while, and trying to follow advice along the lines of "be good to yourself". As if such conformist pressure were really necessary. The doctor wouldn't prescribe chocolate covered marzipan though as a substitute for antibiotics – seemed to think the suggestion had no clinical merit. Hmpphh!

    Be back again the morn.

  • Liu Xiaobo, the Nobel Peace Prize, Glass Houses and the Moral Imperative of Throwing Stones

    Liu The Chinese Government were never going to welcome the news that Liu Xiaobo had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. No Government is likely to be enthusiastic about its own internal dissidents being honoured by the rest of the world. And those of us who live in so called liberal democracies should perhaps hesitate and look carefully at what we hold in our hands before hurling it at others. We may break our own glass house. I say "so called liberal democracies", because I doubt if our society is as liberal as we'd all like to think; and not everyone would say that what we have is in any strong sense, a democracy.

    Nevertheless. I risk the surrounding glass houses as I hold in my hand at least one smooth rounded stone. (By the way amongst my favourite objects are stones which have been rounded by the lapidary patience of water – a metaphor for slow but transformative change?) That the award of a Peace prize should be described as obscene is one of those paradoxical statements which betray irreconcilable differences of perspective.  But then to talk of irreconcilable differences also calls in question the point of a Peace prize if conflicting ideologies are incapable of understanding, and even revision of thought. The Chinese Government has an entirely consistent record of putting the interests of the Party before the rights of its people. Liu Xiaobo was an activist during the Tiannemann Square protests, and has been in and out of prison since – currently serving 11 years for writing ideas contrary to those approved by the Government.

    The West has little assumed moral superiority left. We have our own embarrassments, our own crimes against other parts of the world, our own problems of seeking a more just and humane society. People in glass houses…. But whether here or China, I refuse to have good called evil without rejoinder, or to have just protest silenced without protesting, and I want to describe as nonsense, literally and rhetorically, the notion that the award of the Nobel Peace Prize to an imprisoned activist whose chief weapon was a pen or keyboard, is in any sense an obscene act. Rewarding peacemaking  can never be anything other than transparently humane. That such an accusation could come from a Government which has the Tiannemann Square massacre in its recent history exposes the toxic political doublespeak that is the favoured discourse of those for whom human rights are cheaply negotiable. The statement is itself, an obscenity. 

  • What does that have to do with the price of fish?

    Smile3t Now here's a retail mystery that is hard to understand but easy to solve – if there's the will to do so.

    I stopped on Thursday night for a fish and chip tea on my way to Aberdeen.

    The menu offered for £8.15 small haddock with chips + pot of tea + buttered roll + ice cream.

    I ordered but said I didn't want the roll or the ice cream.

    Went to pay and was charged £7.55 for the fish and chips, and £1.20 for the tea – total of £8.75.

    I said I had had haddock and chips (three hads in a row:)) tea.

    No I hadn't had the ice cream or roll – but if I took them now I could have the cheaper price.

    So I have to eat more calories to get it cheaper, huh?

    Or I take the roll and ice cream, but leave them on the table, and get the cheaper price.

    Or I don't take them at all, and pay 60 pence more for less food.

    Now how does that work?

    I reasoned reasonably, persuaded persuasively, charmed charmingly, looked pained painfully, and eventually was charged for the fish tea at £8.15

    That was at the Bridge of Allan chip shop – and let me say, the fish and chips were superb. So not knocking this fine establishment, (which I've patronised for years and will again), just asking them to not create the kind of offers that either waste food or waste waists!

    Fish Supper Haiku

    Light, crisply battered,

    deep fried piscean banquet,

    served with chips, and tea.

     

    Buttered roll, ice cream?

    Superfluous additions

    to a perfect meal.

     

    Fish Supper Fibonacci

    Fish.

    Chips.

    Enough.

    Fish and chips!

    Forget the ice cream!

    Battered haddock, not buttered roll.

    Calories, cholesterol and saturated fat

    are all fine in moderation, so choose your vice carefully and stick with fish and chips!

     


     


  • Patience with God, Tomas Halik – to be read slowly, and patiently….

    Halik I'm enjoying a slow read of Patience with God. Tomas Halik's writing is beautiful even in translation from the Czech, and there is a quite different sense of the importance of religious experience and of God from someone whose early background is in state communism, but now is a priest free to practice in a Westernised country which has less sense of God!

     

     

    Oh God, how I pray for the church to fulfill St Paul's vision of a body in which all the parts complement each other in their diversity and respect each other's specific purpose, where the eye doesn't say to the hand or the head doesn't tell the foot, "I do not need you".  How I wish that we could realize at last, with all its implications, that the "body of Christ" needs eyes that look progressively ahead, feet that stand firmly on the soil of tradition, hands that intervene actively in the world's affairs, and attentive, hearing ears that silently and contemplatively liste to the beating of God's heart.

    Page 79.

  • daft maths and why sometimes the politics of envy is a morally defensive position…..

    Terry_1540650c With objections too numerous to enumerate, and with arguments too obvious to argue,  and for reasons to reasonable to rationalise, the following report of the financial activities of Manchester City FC are morally unacceptable. Not singling this Premier League English club out, (so I've shown Chelsea players – apparently one on £150,000 per week) just offering an example of ludicrous extravagance that is so morally compromised it is hard to get any ethical handle on it.  Please place the figures below ( the published audit figures popularised for public consumption) alongside the realities of poverty and struggle for individual people who are unemployed, chronically unwell, single parents, or low income families. And then recall the Amos vision of a just society, preceded throughout his prophecy by harsh questions to the extravagant grinders of the poor, and luxuriating mega-rich on their Bentley sofas – ok forgive the anachronism:

    But let justice roll down like waters

    and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

     "The figures also show details of City's astonishing spending spree on players and salaries which have led to record losses of £121.3million. Although City's turnover increased by 40% to £125m this has been swamped by total salary costs of £133.3m, a £50m rise on a year ago.

    The annual report also shows that the club's net spending on transfers has totalled a staggering £403m since 2008. City's net spending this summer was £96.6m – they actually spent around £126m but recouped £30m from the sale of Robinho and other players.

    As of June 1 2009, £185.2m had been spent on transfers and this was followed by a further £145.4m in the following 12 months offset by sales totalling £24m.

    The good news for City is that their turnover has also risen hugely, mainly due to a large increase in commercial income, from £87m to £125m."

    Niagara_falls Sometimes the politics of envy is a morally defensible position. I covet the money that pours Niagara-like into football -not for myself.

    I wonder what difference it might make to a hundred families to have the equivalent of the cost for one of those famous celebrity / footballer parties?

    Or the difference it would make to the hospice provision in this country if for a year ten footballers decided to take their £100,000 per week every second week and donate the alternating payment. Daft maths I know but we are talking daft maths anyway. The answer is £26,000,000 give or take.

    I'm not blaming the footballers – I am asking about the ethical maturity of a culture that has no problem with such daft maths. And I'm not pointing the finger as if I stood outside all this nonsense – I am part of a society that has lost its sense of proprotion, that has mislaid its capacity to measure value, that long ago silenced its ethical klaxons where money is concerned, that lives in a cultural world where virtual fantasies about being mega-rich occlude the counter-experience of many for whom poverty and lost life-chances are not a virtual but a real nightmare. The published finances of a football club such as those quoted above are worth considering alongside the massive cuts about to affect many vulnerable people in our society.

  • Hubble, Poetry, Creation and Christ

    Pillars-of-creation

    CHRIST IN THE UNIVERSE

    by: Alice Meynell (1847-1922)

      • ITH this ambiguous earth
        His dealings have been told us. These abide:
        The signal to a maid, the human birth,
        The lesson, and the young Man crucified.
         
        But not a star of all
        The innumerable host of stars has heard
        How He administered this terrestrial ball.
        Our race have kept their Lord’s entrusted Word.
         
        Of His earth-visiting feet
        None knows the secret, cherished, perilous,
        The terrible, shamefast, frightened, whispered, sweet,
        Heart-shattering secret of His way with us.
         
        Web
        No planet knows that this
        Our wayside planet, carrying land and wave,
        Love and life multiplied, and pain and bliss,
        Bears, as chief treasure, one forsaken grave.
         
        Nor, in our little day,
        May His devices with the heavens be guessed,
        His pilgrimage to thread the Milky Way
        Or His bestowals there be manifest.
         
         
        Whirlpool
        But in the eternities,
        Doubtless we shall compare together, hear
        A million alien Gospels, in what guise
        He trod the Pleiades, the Lyre, the Bear.
         
        O, be prepared, my soul!
        To read the inconceivable, to scan
        The myriad forms of God those stars unroll
        When, in our turn, we show to them a Man.
  • In the beginning was the Word – and then there was the Hubble

    Hubble book "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him and without Him was not anything made that was made….and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth."

    The mystery of vastness, the perplexing notion of infinity, the "cerebral inconveniences" of impossible mathematics, the loveliness and terror of images that reduce human significance to the omega point. That's what my new book is about – or at least that is what it's about if you can combine rational processing of data with aestheric responsiveness and an educated but not too loopy imagination.

    A multi-tasking exegesis of John's Prologue might include simultaneous listening to Richard Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathustra (2001 Space odyssey), looking at these Hubble space images, saying by heart the text about the Word printed above, and asking the question with bewildered humility, "What are human beings that you are mindful of them?'

    Not all theology is verbal. And not all pictures are theological. But as a human being capable of reflection and self-consciousness, I contemplate these images of the universe, and wonder, and trust, and hope, that "all indeed shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well". Julian's image of the hazelnut is more manageable –

    "In this vision he showed me a little thing, the size of a hazelnut, and it
    was round as a ball. I looked at it with the eye of my understanding and
    thought "What may this be?" And it was generally answered thus: "It is all that is
    made." I marvelled how it might last, for it seemed it might suddenly have
    sunk into nothing because of its littleness. And I was answered in my
    understanding: "It lasts and ever shall, because God loves it."

    A vast universe that exists because it is loved presupposes a God of love beyond telling. Stands to reason.

  • Mary Oliver – Poet, Dog Lover and Unselfconscious Theologian.

    DSC_0050-1 Andrew and Margaret call their dog Louis. Well, a clumber spaniel is a dog with a bit of class, and the name has to reflect its status in the canione scheme of things. Mary Oliver's beloved dog is called Percy. Throughout her recent work she's been writing a series of poems not only about Percy, but reflecting on life seen through the less complicated and weary eyes of a dog.


    I ask Percy How I should Live My Life

    Love, love, love, says Percy.

    And run as fast as you can

    along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust.

     

    Then, go to sleep

    Give up your body heat, your beating heart.

    Then, trust.

    ……………………………….

    Quite so.

     

  • The wee wally dug – or a fine specimen of the Clumber Spaniel

    P1100739-1 P1110046-1  

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    My friends Margaret and Andrew are dog connoisseurs.

    They love all dogs, but when it comes to having their own wee dug, it has to be special.

    So meet Louis.

    Just discovered his legs have springs.

    Sofa, bed, chair – whatever is softer than the floor.

    No need for heavy theology when you look into a face like that.

    A kind of panting alleluia with a puzzled look in the first photo.

    And a prayerful and hopeful petition for another of those eucharistic biscuits in the second.

    And an excuse for a poem from Mary Oliver about her dog – which I'll post later.



  • Konference, Kenosis, Kindness and Kinship

      Palmcross Had a great time with the folk who were at the Minister's Refreshment Conference at Hayes Conference Centre. The folk could not have been kinder in welcoming me .

    Met a number of people I'd only had blog contact with before – which continues to persuade me that  virtual community is possible, providing at some stage faces, voices and presence are experienced in encounter. The faces matter  – if only to revise preconceptions of how we imagine people look! Myself included!!

    Enjoyed the magazine section when people were able to tell stories of ministry in different ways and places. The common thread seemed to be that however it does it, the church is called to love, to serve and to accompany.

    Met and made friends with several folk as we exchanged email addresses and made arrangements to meet or share ideas.

    Got the chance to do my paper on kenosis – it was well received and encourages me to pursue further what can sound utterly preposterous, ridiculously pretentious and well-intentioned but hopeless – personal research into the love of God!

    Amongst the highlights – a service of communion which included anointing for refreshment of ministry. I was privileged to share in offering this ministry – and at the end to receive it. No need for theological analysis – I am content with humbly receiving whatever God wants to make of such a gift and grace.

    And finally. The opportunity to sit and talk at the table, or with coffee holding up a doorpost, or in the corridor or wandering round the lake – to share, listen, recognise that this ministry thing is a lifelong entanglement and a lifetime's investment in ordinary folk struggling to make sense of their lives, looking for comfort and support, and willing to risk belonging in covenant and community with others. So the great purpose of God moves on, towards the renewing and bringing to completion of a creation born and borne – born out of love and borne eternally in the heart of God.